


Death Row

by HyperionScience



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Asphyxiation, BL2 canon, Blood, F/M, Gunplay, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Light Sadism, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-10 08:08:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11123184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperionScience/pseuds/HyperionScience
Summary: Before Wilhelm goes to fight the vault hunters, he visits Nisha in Lynchwood.





	Death Row

**Author's Note:**

> So, apparently, I can only write dirty sex stuff if someone is dying. I have an unfinished timhelm fic that is a similar premise that's been kicking around in my computer for almost a year. Oops.
> 
> On another note though, I really wanted to make my favorite murder bffs a little more human. Not too much, though.
> 
> Thank you so, so much to Pseudonaut and NessiewithInk for reading and rereading this at my ceaseless insistence, and to ErroneousOphelia, my best friend, for beta-ing this.
> 
> I cannot believe how kinky I've made this.

 

Nisha Kadam, the sheriff of Lynchwood, stepped into her home and drew her pistol from the worn leather holster that hung from her belt. Though she had an echo device, she had long since set it aside in favor of something a little more old-fashioned. She swore the sound of metal on leather was music to her ears.  

 The small house was lit by the hot desert sun, so dry and hot that it almost took her breath away. The changes were subtle, but she was known for attention to detail, specifically in such instances. Jack had warned her that the vault hunters were loose, but that was only a few days ago, surely there was no way they had already made it to her. 

 None of her cupboards were open. That seemed enough evidence. 

 She ruled out Jack just as easily, nothing about the man was subtle, and if he was down from Helios and looking for a good time, he would have said as much. For someone who tries so hard to be guarded, she lamented, Jack wasn't exactly difficult to read. At that, a brief realization struck her, like a bird flying into glass, and fell dead at her feet. There were only two people who could, and would, enter her home with this matter of expertise, and she fancied she knew which one would be sitting at her table when she rounded the corner. Nevertheless, she stepped out, pistol drawn. 

 "Hands where I can see em', big guy." 

 Two hands, one flesh and one metal, raised slowly. From here, she was looking at him from the side, his chair facing the lone window in the room, looking out over the town. In the harsh desert sun, he looked older than she had ever seen him, his hair thinning, the creases around his eyes growing worried. He was more metal than she remembered, too. 

"Hello." He said, flatly, his deep rumble exactly as it was all those years ago. He didn't dare move to look at her, and stared straight ahead, glimpsing her only from the corner of his eye. 

 "You look like shit, Wilhelm." 

He cracked a small smile, and she noticed that he had shaved his beard off. How she hadn't picked up on it earlier, she had no idea. 

 "Guess so." 

 He was quiet in a way which she would find unfamiliar and worrying if she was going to admit to worrying after the health of the enforcer, which she wasn't. She sat down opposite him, her gun never wavering, his hands never returning to his sides. 

 "Give me your gun." 

 "Nisha." 

 "Sorry, but we both know you're Jack's lapdog, and as much as I like him I don't trust him." She cut him off, gesturing quickly with the barrel of her pistol. "Gun. Now." 

 He sighed, reaching down with one hand for the echo device clipped to his belt, which he put on the table with just the slightest force, the click of the metal shell on wood ringing in the silence. 

 "There. Now get that damned thing out of my face."

 She reluctantly set the pistol down, her gaze never wavering. She wasn't sure what she thought she'd see behind his one eye, but she certainly wasn't finding it. As usual, Wilhelm was a brick wall of a man, in both size and demeanor.  

 "What are you doing here?" 

 A simple question, and one she had earned the right to ask. She could swear she noticed the corner of his mouth twitch, just so.

 "Just visiting."

 "Bullshit."

 He smiled again, that tiny sliver of a smile that betrayed mild amusement, the only emotion he ever had to display for her. 

 "Think you're smart, huh?"

 "No, I know I'm smart."

 "Then you know I'm not gonna try to kill you." He paused, just a moment. "Can I put my hands down now?"

 "Fine."

 He does, slowly but steadily, seeming to relax a little under her softening gaze. He leaned back in the old wooden chair, and Nisha watched as his shoulders slumped, just a little. 

 "I'm dying, Nisha." He said it bluntly, matter-of-factly. She knew better than to call bullshit again. 

 "Bullshit." 

 She'd always been known to push her luck.  

 "You know full well what Jack has planned for tomorrow."

 She does. Tomorrow, Wilhelm will board a train, and lure the vault hunters into a lethal trap of guns and a metal exoskeleton. It seems so simple. 

 "You're scared?"

 He frowned. 

 "They are going to kill me, Nisha." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an echo recording. "Jack has been poisoning me. He thinks I don't know."

 Nisha stands, reaches over the table, takes the device from him. Her thumb clicked the little green button, and there's Jack, bragging to the empty walls of his office. 

 She clicked the button again, cutting him off. 

 "If you've been letting him do this, you're as stupid as he thinks you are."

 "We don't all have your knack for getting our way."

 "What's that supposed to mean?" 

 He gave her a look, an 'as if you don't know' look, because of course he knew about her skill in the field of manipulation. He knew that if she didn't love her job, she'd never have to work again, so skilled was she at getting whatever she needs. 

 "Point made. You're still an idiot."

 "I just wish it didn't make my hair fall out."

 "Vain, too." 

 He laughed, he laughed and laughed and laughed, doubled over in his chair, the slightest hint of a tear in the corner of his good eye. It isn't pretty laughter. He laughs hoarsely, harshly, and has to stop to wheeze and gasp for breath, and it was the most genuine thing Nisha has heard in her entire life. She waited, patiently, smiling the softest smile she knew how to, as he slowly reined it in, putting himself back together.  

 "God, I missed you." He managed, still visibly out of breath. Nisha wondered if it was due to the poison, or how infrequently he laughed. 

 "Yeah, I know."

 He smiles again, that barest hint of a smile, and she is on her feet, going to the tiny refrigerator that stood in the corner of the room, seeming to sag slightly in its age and wear. The light inside had long since broken, and when she reached inside and wrapped her hand around the necks of two bottles of beer, they were only very slightly cool. They were a gift from Jack; imported, he had called them. She supposed they were, nobody outside of Opportunity sold Jack's favorite. The glass bottles clinked as she set them down on the table in front of him, her hand hovering just above his shoulder. 

 "Could've gone to the fridge and got those." He grumbled. 

 "No way. I still don't know if I can trust you." 

 She took a moment to think about the lie. It helped her case that there was a gun stashed in the fridge in the event of an emergency, and she would sooner die than admit to showing compassion, especially for this brute of a man. He knew how she operated. He wouldn't expect anything else. 

 "I didn't come here for you to feel bad for me." 

 "I don't." 

 He opened his bottle on the edge of the table, the cap skittering off across the wood floors, the head bubbling up the neck and spilling over his hand. He regarded it, placing the opened bottle on the table, wiping the foam on the front of his shirt. She did the same, positioning her mouth over the bottle before anything could spill. 

 She looked up at Wilhelm and waggled her eyebrows. 

 The fit of laughter struck him just as he was taking a sip, and he buried his face in his arm, coughing and trying to keep the beer from coming out of his nose. 

 "I mean it." She said, setting the bottle down, a smudge of her dark lipstick lingering on the cool glass. From the label, Jack smirked up at her. She shot him a quick glance.  _ If you cared,  _ she said,  _ you'd be here instead of on the goddamned station. _

 And when  Wilhelm did nothing but stare at her; wearing a look of startled surprise, his cheeks flushing; She removed her hat and set it next to her beer, getting down on her knees under the table. 

 "Nisha, come on. Get off the floor." He murmured, refusing, for the first time since her return, to meet her eyes, even the glowing blue of his bionic eye seeming to dart out of the way of her piercing amber gaze. 

 She looked up at him, smirking playfully, her hands settled firmly on his muscular thighs. She felt his body move as he inhaled,  sharply. 

 "If you really want me to stop, say the word. If not, well..." She grinned a devilish grin. "I'd better not hear a word out of you. Got it?"

 "Yes." 

 "Try again." 

 He inhaled sharply, and beneath her hands, she felt his muscles tense. 

 "Yes, Miss Kadam." 

 "There we go." 

 She gave his leg a gentle pat, her smile softening just slightly before she began to unbuckle his belt. He allowed himself a quick glance down at her. She was looking at him with an ear-to-ear grin, like a cat staring down a caged bird, and with one swift motion and a metallic clunk, his belt fell to the floor next to her. He looked away, and downwards, and everywhere but at her, because she had a hold on him now, firm and absolute. He felt a shiver go down his spine at the thought that he was out of Jack's jurisdiction and in custody of the Sheriff. He reached out to touch her and was met with a quick slap to the back of his hand. 

 "Not so fast, big guy." Her emphasis was obvious as she unbuttoned his pants, and above her Wilhelm took a deep breath, his hand slowly returning to his side. "There'll be plenty of time for that later."

 "Nisha, I have a job to do." 

 For the first time since her arrival, she could hear something grim in his voice, as if it was only here, sitting in her kitchen with her fingers slowly wrapping around him that he knew his fate was set in stone. 

 "Don't think about that. Think about me." 

 He opened his mouth to speak, and she silenced him with a slight squeeze, causing him to tense again, and bite his lip. 

 "I said no talking." 

 He nodded, his eyes closed, and before he had time to think of much else her lips were on him, warm and wet. He dug his fingers into the hard wood of the chair, casting a quick look down at her. Wilhelm was not a small man, in any sense, but for all he could tell it mattered little to her as she knelt before him, keeping him held to the chair with little more than her mouth and her hands. 

 Nisha's mouth was insistent, poised over his head, her bottom lip touching him just lightly enough to smudge her lipstick even further. He twitched as she wrapped her fingers around him once more, her touches feather-light and never ending. He held her gaze the best he could, watching as she teased him. She looked right at him, her eyes mischievous, ablaze; as if silently daring him to speak, or move, or do something else to warrant a punishment that she was all too eager to provide. They were locked in a battle of wits, as she sucked his cock at her dining room table and he proved, exactly, to what lengths he was willing to go to obey orders.  

 Nisha's nails dug into his still-clothed thighs, and he hissed, even through the fabric he could feel the pinpricks of her manicured talons. Her stare was challenging now, struggling for a reason to put him back in his place. She took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing, and he felt every inch of him enveloped in her; Wilhelm swore and finally gave in, reaching up and running his fingers through her hair with the reverence and respect that he had always felt she was owed.

 Her hands and mouth left him then, and Wilhelm once again found himself likening her to a hunter looming over her prey. In a fluid, graceful motion, she rose to her feet and straddled Wilhelm's lap, wiping some saliva from the corner of her smudged lips before putting a threatening hand on his neck. 

 "Did I stutter?" Her voice was a purr, and a knife, her slender fingers firm over his windpipe. He leaned his head back. Looking up at the ceiling and drawing in the deepest breath he could, he answered in a whisper. 

 "No."

 "No...?"

 "No, Miss Kadam." Wilhelm's voice was a gruff murmur, and she smiled in spite of herself. His voice had always rubbed her the right way, and she wondered how much coarser it would be if she simply tightened her grip.

 "Think you can behave?" Her nails were leaving pink half-moons on his bare neck, and he winced as she applied a little more pressure, his breath coming in a little rougher, his arousal never wavering. 

 "Yes, Miss Kadam," He gasped, his fingers once again finding purchase in the chair, gripping so hard he swore he could feel it warping beneath his fingertips. "But," He added, with a little smirk, "not for much longer."

 "Awfully smug, for a man in your position." She mused, her free hand giving him a teasing stroke, causing him to inhale sharply and shakily. She let go of his neck and wrapped her arm around him, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him in for a kiss that stole his breath away more than her hands ever could. She kissed the same way she handled a gun, with practiced confidence and a level of control that could only be described as mastery, her tongue and teeth as lethal as the pistols on her hips. 

 Nisha was pushing up his shirt now, the hand that wasn't tugging at what remained of his hair pushing the gray and yellow uniform up his body, fingers splayed on his chest. The kiss was dizzying, and Wilhelm could feel the need to breathe at a steady incline alongside his arousal, but her hold on him was too tight, his will not strong enough to tear himself away. He hissed as her claws once again found their mark, a spike of pain and pleasure coursing through him as the miniature daggers sunk into his skin.

 Just as it seemed too much, his head swimming pleasantly as he drowned in her lips, she let his hair go and moved the onslaught to his neck. Without his beard, it was easy to lick and suck deep red marks along his jawline, which she teased with her teeth as she rolled her hips in his lap, her own belt quickly discarded and her shirt following closely behind. 

 He frowned as her mouth left him, but the expression died on his face as he took in the sight of her. Long black hair, longer than he had ever seen her wear it, cascading over scarred shoulder blades, stopping just before the dark lace of her bra began. She grinned at him, and he knew that if he somehow got out of this ordeal alive, it would only be because of the way she was looking at him. Any harm that was going to come his way, at least for tonight, was from her, and it sent a shudder down his spine, his cock twitching. 

 "May I..." His voice was a little hoarse. Nisha only smirked in reply, taking his hands with a softness he did not expect and guiding them to her hips. He gripped them tightly and leaned forward, his lips brushing against hers gently, allowing her to once again take complete control of him. Her clever fingers found his neck again, and she tightened her grip just enough to remind him that she was there, and that if she wanted to, she could choke the life out of him. 

 He swore he could see stars dancing in the corners of his eye, and when she rolled her hips forward, the denim of her jeans brushing against his straining erection, he moaned into her mouth, his callused fingers clinging to her bare hips along the coarse edges of an old and jagged scar. She bit down on his lip and he tasted that familiar iron taste, warm and metallic in his mouth. Nisha's lips curled into a grin, and she kissed him with renewed force after loosening her grip long enough for him to take a gasp of air, and not a moment more. 

 He pulled her closer, desperate for more of that friction, and she hissed as he pressed himself against her. Rather than lose her composure, she pushed him away, holding him by the neck. 

 "Fuck, Wil." She looked down at him, and he knew in the back of his mind that she was done teasing. Whatever back and forth they had had was gone now, and in her eyes he saw only hunger. He groaned as she finally let go of his throat, and her weight left his lap. He let his head fall back, and he stared at the ceiling, trying to get his breath back. 

 The cold barrel of her gun pressed into the center of his chest. 

 "Get moving." 

 Wilhelm knew he really shouldn't be turned on by this, and knew that he was anyways; that the shock of frigid metal was going straight to his dick, and that he would never be able to look at a Jakob's pistol again without feeling this one, unrelenting and threatening, separated from his heart by mere layers of bone, muscle, and skin. He stood, slowly, and put his hands behind his head, letting her march him backward down the hall. 

The door was ajar, easily opened by his shoulders as he backed into it. As soon as he stepped into the darkened room she tossed her gun aside, stepped out of her pants, grabbed him by the shirt, and pushed him back onto the dusty bedspread. Wilhelm felt the breath knocked from his lungs, and he gasped as she straddled him again. Now there was no rough denim between them anymore, there was only her insinuating herself against him with smooth, circular movements of her hips.

Nisha held him firmly to the old mattress, and he whimpered as she tightened her grip on his shirt, pulling some of his chest hair with it. He lifted his head to look at her, and she lifted him just slightly before shoving his back down with as much force as she could. 

 "You move when I tell you." She leaned down, growling into his ear, biting down on his earlobe hard enough to draw blood and when he opened his mouth to answer, all that came out was a low moan. Against his neck, she smirked, and for a moment silence filled the room as she pulled herself away, repositioning herself over him. 

 "Please." He managed, deep and gruff, his eyes closed but her smirk still burned into his eyelids. He felt her grip loosen, letting his shirt go, hands moving to his broad shoulders and holding him down. Nisha had always been much stronger than she looked, and he wondered in the back of his mind if he could move her if he wanted to. He doubted it, especially after he looked up and saw that hungry look in her eye. 

 She finally lowered herself onto him, and he was perfectly content to never think anything again. 

 Nisha rode him with silent determination and absolute command, her nails sinking into him as he bucked his hips up to meet her. Despite the pain, he couldn't bring himself to stop; If she planned on breaking him, he'd give her a fight. 

 She swore as he thrust up into her. If they both kept this pace up, it would all be over far too soon, and they would have to return to the world beyond Nisha's little shack in Lynchwood, a world where Jack had them both on death row. She leaned in to stage another vicious attack on his neck, and Wilhelm replied in turn by grabbing her ass, pulling her down towards him as best he could. Her bites were hard, her hands strong, and he was drowning in her, never to surface again. 

 His blood was warm on her lips, and she licked the wounds she left behind, driven on by the sounds of him falling apart beneath her. She pressed her lips to his and he gave himself to her, the metallic taste of blood once again filling his mouth. And when she pulled away, pressing her entire body against him, leaning in to purr into his ear, he nearly came, a contented sigh filling his senses as she felt his cock pulsing inside her.

"C'mon, big guy..." She whispered, nibbling on his earlobe, tearing a moan from him as she quickened her pace. If she was trying to break him before, now she was trying to destroy him; to fuck him so hard he came apart at the seams she bit into his neck. He held her so tightly he swore she'd wear his fingerprints forever, right above her precious holsters. 

 He saw her move instants before he felt her nails sink into the wounds on his neck, and the scream that erupted from him was cut short only when she squeezed his neck like a vice, pushing him with all her force into the flat and dusty pillow. His mouth stayed open in a silent scream, and if Nisha didn't know better she would have sworn she saw tears in his eyes as he came, his hips rolling and his body shuddering beneath her. She wasn't far behind, swept up in the tidal wave of lust, every muscle tensing, and then loosening, her grip faltering enough for him to gasp greedily for air. 

 In the dark of the room, the sounds of skin on skin screamed to a halt, and silence crept in, settling in around them as Nisha laid down on top of Wilhelm, her face warm in the crook of his neck.  

 "Nisha." He started, and she could hear it in his voice, beyond the scratch and ache of his abused windpipe: fear. 

 "Don't."  

 "But-"

 "Don't." She insisted, as firm as she could manage. She bit down on her lower lip to stop it from quivering, and though she didn't dare look up at him, she knew that tears were running down his cheeks by the way his chest moved under hers. With steady hands, she unhooked her bra, dropping it on the floor by her bed. "Sit up."

 Wilhelm obeyed, pushing himself up on arms that she swore she saw shaking, and she slipped his shirt up over his head, gentle but decisive. His pants followed, and it was only then he wrapped his arms around her, holding her naked body to his, his face buried in her hair. His robotic hand was cold on her back, and she shivered, instinctively curling up to him.  

 "I should go." He whispered, and if it weren't for the deafening silence she would have missed it; his rasping lost, muffled by her hair. 

 "Stay." 

 Wilhelm nodded, and followed orders. 

**Author's Note:**

> It took over a week, but it's done. Thanks again to everyone who helped me through this. 
> 
> I am so, so sorry.


End file.
